Gone
The old church sits
Squalid in its agony
Bitten by the earth
The air groans
The gates swung wide
Her innards raped
Gutted by vultures
Still darkness falls from the sky
It is a Murk,
A cancerous toxin
Spreading into the roots
The old world rises
Where survival rules
None are free
No miracle comes from ruin
The decay lurches on
Copyright © The Red Rain | Year Posted 2013
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